In the years since the mysterious Zane’s disappearance, much had changed in the Sealed Demon continent.

  On the frontier, in the never-ending wars between man and monster, the Four Winds army had produced a new hero—the dashing Li Zhang. As valiant a warlord as they came—it was said he’d never lost a battle, even outnumbered nine to one. He’d set a new record for the heads of monster beast-lords.

  In the far east, a foreign expert introduced the ‘pill furnace,’ which prompted a revolution in the Four Winds Kingdom’s alchemy.

  After decades of meditating, the Wandering Monk had broken through to half-step ascension, it was said, making him and Emperor Cloudless the continent’s peak powers… but when asked if he would take back the title Peerless, he simply pointed at the sky.

  Then—out of the Silverwind Sect—Jin Wei broke through to Foundation faster than any Chosen and became the youngest in a century to make Core. At first, when he claimed proudly that it was all due to Zane, folk thought he was boasting. But after his accomplishments, it was soon the consensus that he was telling the truth.

  The mysterious Zane’s reputation only grew.

  But no one had seen him since—he’d just vanished.

  In the years that passed, speculation only grew.

  Then there was the Demon Spring.

  It was a once-in-a-millennium event.

  Meteors burning with demon energies streaked across the skies.

  Geysers of the stuff blew up all over the continent—the King’s High Artificers had to be dispatched to contain them.

  Everywhere you went, old sealed powers were waking…

  Then—a month before Zane emerged from his cavern—a temple of black bones emerged in the Desert of Gor. A temple carved out of the bones of a single demonic god.

  For the first time in a thousand years, the Temple of the Sealed God rose again.

  The greatest masters of the continent descended in a feverish rush on those red-sand wastes, hoping to glimpse the mysterious secrets within—secrets long lost to time. The hoard of the demon Osmodius.

  It caught the eye of the world.

  Even the frontier grew restless. The Monster Lord Thond had gone missing, and there were rumors of great numbers of them migrating, massing in the shadows, just out of sight of the artificers’ instruments… for what reason, none could tell.

  It was shaping up to be a hell of a summer.

  ***

  Krag’s Outpost

  Desert of Gor.

  A month ago, Krag’s Outpost had been an afterthought on the Four Winds’ map. One tavern, one inn, and a smattering of soldiers stationed there to monitor monster activities in the far frontier.

  Until a month ago—when the artificers’ instruments picked up the biggest earthquake since the Fist of Zane.

  The Temple of the Sealed God burst from the sands.

  At the head of this temple was the statue of the sealed demon Osmodius—and on that statue lay a dare.

  In two moons’ time, Osmodius would open the gates of the underworld. Face its wrath. And if found worthy, gain entrance to lost treasures untold.

  The hoard of Osmodius himself.

  Not three days after the news got out, chariots thundered in from the east, pulled by proud cloud-gray stallions, manes crackling with lightning. The Broken Thunder Sect’s Sky-hammer Kang led the charge. They set up camp just outside the Outpost’s grounds.

  The Weeping Willow Sect was next—Fairy Shi and her disciples, trailing sashes dripping with morning dew that cooled the desert as they passed.

  Then came Emperor Cloudless and his retinue—all ageless, blessed to drink from the same fountain of eternal youth as he did. It was rumored he’d set foot on solid ground for the first time in millennia—just for this occasion.

  Cloudless was a true peak expert. Some even thought he had the fabled eye of prophecy. He never made a move unless he was sure to win.

  It should’ve been enough to scare off the masses.

  But if anything, the frenzy reached a fever pitch.

  Two days after his arrival, army tents were pitched, and Li Zhang’s spear could be seen fluttering in the breeze.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Soon martial masters across all paths descended on Krag’s. Poison masters hiding needles in their nails, spirit-callers wielding the souls of the dead, and fire-breathers piled in on loaded caravans.

  Anyone who was anyone in the Sealed Demon Continent could be seen striding down that dusty main road.

  There were even a few foreign delegations, floating in on ships of planks and gears and giant billowing tarps—‘airships’ they were called. No one on the continent had seen anything like it.

  It was said they came from ‘sacred lands’ across the seas. No one knew what that meant. But even the unflappable Emperor Cloudless creased his brow when he saw their arrival, or so it was rumored.

  They had to be strong—only no one knew how strong. Maybe as strong as Zane, or stronger; that was the rumor in the taverns. It was said Zane himself had come from the lands across the sea, after all.

  But these weren’t all.

  The bulk of the arrivals were unknowns. Loose cultivators and cloaked experts—martial artists gone incognito. Some of the strongest folk there wore hoods. They were strong, and so they knew the value of keeping strength hidden—especially in such an unprecedented gathering of powers, where everyone was out for themselves.

  Here, there was always a bigger fish.

  Under the baking sun, things were heating up.

  One day left.

  ***

  You could hardly move a foot on that main street without bumping into someone. There were cloaks of too many colors and sigils to count. It was high noon, and the sun was merciless.

  A saloon shuddered; its plywood walls burst open, and an enormous oiled man in a wrestler’s girdle crashed through, landing in a heap on the street. Through the hole in the wall, you could glimpse the bare chest of the man who’d thrown him out of the ring. Then a roar, a smattering of drunken cheers.

  Most folk on the street just stepped around the poor guy.

  The street was a sea of voices, but rising above it, bony hands thrust knickknacks to the sky—“Viperbite! Three sliver marks for fresh viperbite! Cures all poisons and heartache too!”

  “Old Vu’s life-saving talismans, get yours today! Takes any fatal attack, or your money back!”

  Inns lined the street that hadn't been there just weeks ago; some that had been there days ago, and it showed in their make. Some were literally straining at the seams, struggling to house the influx.

  High above, vultures’ shadows stretched across the sands.

  Bo Long, Chosen of the Heartwood, looked around and sniffed. He hailed from the Heartwood of the south, where it was customary to wear just a loincloth. But if he felt out of place, he didn’t show it. He laughed, and shouldered his buddies, and scratched his groin as he pleased. Most folk gave him a wide berth.

  He caught sight of dust pluming in the distance and sniffed.

  It was yet another mass of caravan of wagons.

  “Roaches,” he murmured.

  Behind him, his blood-brother grinned. “I met this guy at the Weng’s who said he sold his mother’s jewels for a ticket here.”

  Bo snorted. “What do they think’s gonna be left after I, Li Zhang, Cloudless, and all the other big dogs take our picks? Not to mention those damned foreigners!”

  “I don't see why you have to be so mean about it,” whispered his girlfriend, Cai, a slip of a girl. “They're just trying their best.”

  “You’re right, my little flower. ‘Course you’re right.” He chuckled. “Let them have their fun. It's the gall of it, that's all.”

  He crossed his arms, making the muscles on his forearm bulge, and he gave her a grin. “This place isn’t like where they’re from. Here the strong make the rules. The strong take the winnings.”

  He thumped his own chest. “If you didn’t know it, you’d better learn fast! Or—”

  He bumped into a hooded man and cursed. He rounded on him, fists primed to throw—

  “Apologies,” said the man, and bowed his head.

  “You’d better be damned sorry!” Bo cursed him out some more.

  They carried on.

  “See?” said Bo. “That one learned fast.”

  “That man,” whispered Cai. “His hand—it had a sigil of a circle. It had a dot in it.”

  “He did?”

  “Isn’t that the sigil of the Empty Sky?”

  “What, like the Wandering Monk’s?” snorted one of the boys.

  “He was wearing a staff…”

  They all stilled. They looked back.

  The man had vanished.

  A moment. They all burst out laughing.

  “Can you imagine?!”

  Bo snorted. “If that was the bloody wandering monk, why—”

  At this point, he hit someone else.

  Someone very, very dense.

  CLANG!

  Now, Bo Long was a big man. A man used to throwing around other men like children—in fact, he’d done it thrice just this morning. Once to the same man, just because the little guy’s wife was there too, and he liked seeing the look on her face.

  But here Bo bowled over like a sack of grain.

  The other man didn't move at all.

  “The hell!” Bo shot to his feet, face flushed, fists clenched.

  “You ran into me,” the other man informed Bo.

  Bo nearly swung then and there. Then he looked the man in the eyes.

  His boys couldn't see the man through Bo’s back—but they were grinning, ready to see their boss dish out another ass-whooping.

  But then—

  “Err—” Bo swallowed. “Yes—that’s right, I did do that! I, err—apologies, sir—I’ll just, uh—”

  He stumbled out of the way.

  The other man walked away.

  They stared at him.

  “Boss…?”

  “Boss—you okay?”

  Bo’s knees were trembling.

  “…Who the hell was that?!”

  They looked around, but all they saw was a swirl of cloaks.

  The man was gone.

  ***

  Zane had expected a lot more of a fuss when he traveled town to town.

  He thought the shenanigans with the sky a few years back would be a hassle. If it got to be too much, he figured he’d take up a fake name. Maybe a mustache.

  This turned out to not be necessary.

  The first town he got to, he introduced himself to the innkeeper as Zane.

  “Zane, you said?”

  “That’s right.”

  The old man eyed him and chuckled.

  “Look, you’re a sturdy fella. But Zane’s twelve feet tall, with eyes like a dragon’s, and when he steps, the earth trembles with the sound of thunder.”

  “…”

  The next guy told him Zane was fourteen feet tall.

  He even walked into an inn and found a beefy man claiming to be Zane talking up a girl at a bar, who was not impressed.

  The girl raised a brow and told the guy he wasn’t Zane. Zane’s jawline was so sharp the air screamed when he moved. Then she looked around, pointed at Zane, and said he was more Zane than the guy was, and he wasn’t Zane either.

  “…”

  So he made good time trekking across the continent.